


Home and Family

by Chillmaster3000



Series: Cerulean AU [6]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-25 15:22:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2626595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chillmaster3000/pseuds/Chillmaster3000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Seaborns move into a new house. Sam and his parents have some issues to work out before anyone can call it a home. Fifth in the Cerulean AU.<br/>There's a lot of OC in this fic, but it's important for Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cerulean 2

After Nana woke up, the three of them went out to see the playgrounds nearby. All the playgrounds were nice, but Cerulean liked the one in the big green park that had lots of other stuff in it. There were chess tables and dogs running and bikes flying by and people racing each other. She told Daddy when he picked her up to bring her to the White House that they found THE BEST ONE. He didn’t understand that it was absolutely THE BEST ONE. He kept saying it was her favorite, which was not the same. Close, but no cigar, Uncle Josh liked to say.

When they got to the White House, Uncle Toby gave a very quick hi to Cerulean before stealing Daddy and going back into his office. Aunt Kathy set Cerulean up in Daddy’s office with a coloring book.

“He’ll be out soon,” Aunt Kathy said. “You hang out here. Bonnie, Ginger, and I are all outside if you need anything.”

“Can I sit at his desk?” Cerulean asked.

“Go for it.” Aunt Kathy smiled while Cerulean climbed up into Daddy’s chair. The coloring book and crayons were put on the desk and Cerulean sat on her knees to reach. “All set?”

“Yep.” 

“Okay. We’ll be right outside.” Aunt Kathy left. Cerulean began coloring in the Weasley family picture. Her orange crayon started getting small so she colored in the hair pink instead.

“Cerulean?” She looked up to see Auntie Ainsley.

“Hi, Auntie Ainsley!” she said. “Whatcha doing?”

“Avoiding work. What are you doing?” Auntie Ainsley came over to the desk. 

“I’m coloring! Look, there’s pink hair!” Cerulean pushed her coloring book to Auntie Ainsley. 

“Ooh, I like it. We should give you pink hair for a little while, see what your dad says,” Auntie Ainsley said.

“We could make my hair pink?”

“No!” Cerulean and Auntie Ainsley turned to see Daddy in the doorway, eyes wide.

“Oh, come on, Sam, it’ll be fun,” Auntie Ainsley said. “It would be temporary hair dye.”

“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure people would have heart attacks. She’s six, Ainsley.”

“What’s giving people heart attacks?” Uncle Toby asked from behind Daddy.

“Dyeing Cerulean’s hair pink!” Daddy said.

“For a few days!” Auntie Ainsley added.

“Yeah, no, don’t do that!”

“See? Toby agrees with me,” Daddy said, walking into the office. 

“Neither of you have any sense of adventure,” Auntie Ainsley said. 

“I thought I was supposed to be responsible now,” Daddy said. 

“What’s irresponsible about letting Cerulean have pink hair for a weekend?” Auntie Ainsley asked. Daddy paused. “See?”

“If we’re dyeing her hair any color for a weekend, which I’m not saying we are, it should at least match her name so no one gets confused,” Daddy said. 

“So you’re saying you’d let her have blue hair.”

“Ooh, can we do that?” Cerulean said. Daddy closed his eyes and sighed while Auntie Ainsley laughed at him.

“Not this weekend,” Daddy said. “Can I have my desk back?”

“Yeah.” Cerulean started to slide off the chair. Her foot caught on the seat and her head was suddenly going down faster than the rest of her. She shrieked, putting her hands out in front of her.

“Cerulean!” Bigger hands grabbed her before she hit the ground. Cerulean grabbed onto the hands and they set her on her feet. 

“What the hell is going on in here?” Uncle Toby thundered. Cerulean turned around to see Auntie Ainsley had thrown herself across the desk and was balanced on it. Her hands had been the ones to catch Cerulean. Daddy had grabbed Auntie Ainsley so she wouldn’t fall either, still holding her when Cerulean was standing. Uncle Toby was standing in the doorway, watching all of them like he wasn’t sure if this was supposed to be funny or not.

“Cerulean fell?” Auntie Ainsley said, her voice high. 

“I’m okay!” Cerulean said. She came around the desk and waved at Uncle Toby. He looked at Daddy.

“What’s your excuse?” 

“I was, uh, making sure Ainsley didn’t fall.” Daddy stepped away from Auntie Ainsley, who stood up and fixed her jacket. Both of their faces were red. 

“It would be appreciated if all of you could stop causing trouble for the rest of the day,” Uncle Toby said in his slow, annoyed voice. “There are people who actually do work around here.”

“It was an accident-”

“Nobody meant to-”

“I don’t care! Put a lid on it!” Uncle Toby said. “Cerulean, be careful with the grown-up chairs.”

“Yes, Uncle Toby.” He turned and left. Everybody was quiet for a second. It was weird.

“Ainsley, why are you up here anyway?” Daddy asked finally.

“I, um, needed a break. I wanted to see if you guys were here, I have a housewarming gift for you.”

“A housewarming gift?” Daddy repeated.

“Yes, Sam. I do it every time a friend of mine moves into a new place,” Auntie Ainsley said. “Cerulean, would you come with me to go get it?” 

“Yeah, okay,” Cerulean said.

“We can start making plans on dyeing your hair,” Auntie Ainsley said with a giggle. 

“Cool!” Cerulean took Auntie Ainsley’s offered hand. Daddy shook his head.

“The two of you are going to be the death of me.” 

“You can’t stop a woman on a mission, Sam,” Auntie Ainsley said. “Onward, Cerulean!” They left Daddy in his office. Cerulean waved at Aunt Bonnie, Aunt Kathy, and Aunt Ginger as they went through the bullpen.

“So how is the new house?” Auntie Ainsley asked.

“It’s good. Nana made it really nice, and Zach and Christine and George helped,” Cerulean said. “And Pop too.” They walked out into the hallway that would lead them to the stairs. Cerulean’s feet skidded on the slippery floors.

“Pop? You mean your dad’s dad?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure if I liked him or not, but I think I do now. He doesn’t hit people,” Cerulean said. 

“Well, that’s… good,” Auntie Ainsley said. “I suppose you asked him about it?”

“Yeah, coz Nana and Daddy were fightin about him and I wanted to know why and Daddy said he did something to hurt Nana but it was hurting feelings and not hurting like ow,” Cerulean said. “So I think it’s okay.”

“Right. I’m glad everything worked out,” Auntie Ainsley said as they started down the stairs to her office. “How’s Zach doing?”

“His arm’s not broken anymore. He’s stayin with Christine and George and we’re going to see each other on Saturday and it’ll be fun,” Cerulean said. 

“That’s good.”

“Yep. It’s all good.” Cerulean and Auntie Ainsley made the turn into the office. There was a big box on the desk, wrapped in shiny blue paper with a floppy red bow tied on top. “Ooh, that’s pretty! How do you make it look like that?”

“I’ll teach you how to wrap like that before Christmas,” Auntie Ainsley said. 

“Cool!”

“Now, we have to bring that up to your dad, but he’s not allowed to open it until he brings you home. Can you make sure he doesn’t open it?” Auntie Ainsley asked. Cerulean nodded. 

“Is that my mission?”

“Yes. That is your mission, if you choose to accept it.”

“I accept my mission,” Cerulean said. Auntie Ainsley smiled. 

“Excellent. Do you want to carry it up the stairs?”

“Yeah! It’s my mission!” Cerulean answered.


	2. Cerulean 2

Hannah sat in the armchair and sighed contentedly. Somehow, despite all the delays and setbacks, the house was ready before Air Force One landed. All the furniture had been moved in, placed in the proper rooms, and served its intended purpose. The accessories were mostly in place. There were still a few to put up but they were close to where their homes would be. The kitchen was stocked enough for breakfast the next morning. Beds were made, lights were on, phones and Internet were connected. The home put together by Hannah and five accomplices is lovely, if Hannah did say so herself. Really, it had all worked out perfectly.

Well, Hannah thought as she heard footsteps come up from the basement, perhaps not entirely perfectly…

*

"I'm going to buy a house," Hannah said as soon as Sam answered his phone.

"Normally, people start with hello," Sam replied. "Why are you buying a house? Where?"

"I've seen your apartment, Sam, there's no way there'll be room for you, me, and Cerulean when the time comes," Hannah said. "My friend Bethanne is looking to move here and she has a house near D.C., so we're selling to each other."

"Mom, it's not a bad idea, but I don't have time to move-"

"I'll take care of it. I'll come before the custody changes and move everything for you."

"Are you sure? That's a lot of-"

"Sam, I was the head editor of Little Brown for twelve years. I juggled far more with much more dire consequences than not it having it entirely ready before the child comes home. In fact, I managed to get your nursery ready while overseeing three potential bestseller advertising campaigns," Hannah said.

"Really? I didn't know that," Sam said.

"And everything was ready for you when I brought you home from the hospital. I'm just that good, Sam," Hannah said without a hint of modesty. Sam laughed.

"Well, I guess I'll see. Hopefully things will slow down before we start getting ready for re-election and I'll be able to help."

*

Sam was not able to help, as it turned out, being busier than ever when Hannah had gotten everything ready to move in. The MS scandal, Cerulean's recovery, and the re-election took up all of his time. Hannah, however, found other help.

Zach volunteered his services as soon as he heard Hannah mention moving in, which Hannah thought was perfect because Zach would know Cerulean's preferences better than anyone. It also gave Zach something to do once his arm healed other than dwell on the crash. George and Christine were more than willing to help as well. Hannah accepted their offers, hoping this could be the start of a friendship outside the hospital. Kathy was also helping. Not only did the incredibly efficient woman handle Sam's time and information, she also had keys to his apartment in case of emergencies. Emergencies like Sam forgetting to give keys to his mother before he got on the plane to New Hampshire as she was trying to move them into the new house.

There had been only one snag in all of this, and it wasn't a problem for Hannah. No, it was more of a problem for the moment Sam found out his father had been crucial to the whole move in.

That, Hannah had known since she and Joseph had first spoken about it, was going to be what could only be described accurately in one of two phrases, depending on exactly when Sam found out. If Sam were to find out when Hannah planned to tell him, in the morning before he went to work, there would be a shitstorm when he saw Joseph. If he found out by seeing his father during or directly after one of Cerulean's nightmare meltdowns, exhausted and stressed, it would be a clusterfuck.

Neither of these two were going to be pleasant.

Hannah had planned to move everything after her surprise trip to the East Coast. She would check out the house, adjust her plans to it, then set up the shipping of the furniture from one coast to the other. That plan got shelved when Kathy called with the news of Cerulean's car accident.

Once she knew Cerulean, Sam, and Zach would be all right, Hannah was forced to re-evaluate her plans. Sam needed her around now, not in two months as they'd previously expected. Hannah could more than fill the role of ever-present guardian for Cerulean, but she couldn't do that and gather up the furniture from the California house. So Hannah was forced to make a decision: does she ask a friend that will in all likelihood cause her stress simply because they don't know the items as well as someone who lives in the house, or does she just ask Joseph, who will stress out Sam and try to take over as much of the move as possible?

Hannah knew it was selfish, but she chose Joseph for the simple reason of he would make her life a lot easier.

"Of course, Han, I'd love to," Joseph said when she asked. "You send me a list and I'll get on it this weekend."

"It doesn't have to be right away. I just want you to separate the smaller things first, what I'm taking and what I'm not. I'll speak to Bethanne and see what she wants of the latter before deciding what to do with the rest," Hannah said. "You can take whatever you like, I suppose." She didn't acknowledge that Joseph had moved out anything he was really attached to when the knowledge of his decades-long affair became public. Hannah liked to pretend that hadn't happened so embarrassingly.

"Okay, you just keep me posted. And I'll send those care packages you suggested. I got some ideas already," Joseph proclaimed with an excitement so like Sam's. Thankfully he'd gotten over his earlier petulance over not flying out to help. "And I can fly out when you're doing the actual moving in, help you set up shop." Well, shit.

"Joseph, you know Sam's not going to like that," Hannah said.

"He's not going to like you doing this on your own or trying to move the real heavy stuff. Your back's in no shape for that," Joseph said. A twinge from lifting Cerulean earlier reminded Hannah he was right. Sam didn't know that Hannah's back was bad yet- she'd never gotten around to telling him.

"Fine. But you're going to have to talk with him this time. And more than just a phone call and an email, actually talking," Hannah replied. She had been so furious when Sam had relayed his communication with Joseph that she nearly murdered her ex-husband. Joseph made a small noise that indicated he remembered that all too well.

"Yeah. I will, Hannah, I will." Somehow, Hannah wasn't quite convinced.

*

Joseph arrived the morning before Sam and Cerulean came home. He walked into the house with some of the movers George had recommended, swaggering in like he owned the place. This was how he entered every room and Hannah was quite used to it.

"Hello, Joseph. The desk goes upstairs, second room on the left, thank you, sir," Hannah said to the movers. They nodded and started up the stairs. Joseph took in the mostly empty living room.

"This is a nice space," he said. "A little old, but nice."

"Bethanne and her husband took very good care of it. I had a contractor look it over before I started moving things in." That contractor was George, who was very invested in making sure the house was in good condition. He went over everything twice and told Hannah that while she might want to update some fixtures, the house was fine.

"Good. How are the movers?"

"Very polite. Very careful."

"Great. What can I do?" Joseph asked. Hannah thought it over as a mover brought in another box of Sam's books.

"That goes over there by the radiator, sir, thank you. I'm not sure, Joe, mostly I'm just supervising," Hannah said. "The furniture from our house isn't due to arrive until two, and the Dosils will be here at one-forty-five."

"Sounds like we could go to lunch when these guys are done," Joseph said. A thought occurred to Hannah as a mover with a box marked kitchen walked past.

"Oh, food! I need to get food," she said. "Joe, would you be willing to go grocery shopping for me? I'll give you a list and my card-"

"Don't even think about it. I can pay for the groceries," Joseph interrupted. He didn't look too thrilled, but shopping had never been his thing. Hannah hid a smile.

"Well, give me a minute to find the list. Do you have a car? I can give you my keys."

"No, I got a rental. And I passed an A&P on the way, that work?"

"That's fine, thank you." Hannah went into the kitchen, where her purse sat on the butcher's block. She could hear Joseph come in behind her and stop in his tracks.

The kitchen was a frankly huge space. Not only did it have all the appliances and cabinets one would find in any decent-sized kitchen, it had a long eating space the same length as the formal dining room next to it. Bright windows ran along the opposite wall, filling the kitchen with light to make it seem even larger. Hannah loved it, and she could see many memories being made here.

"Wow," Joseph said finally. "You finally got the giant kitchen you wanted." Hannah rolled her eyes as she dug through her purse for the grocery list.

"Kitchens are places for family. Sam and I spent a lot of time in the kitchen when he was younger," she said. Hannah pulled the list out and crossed the room again to hand it over. Joseph took it and put the small paper in his blazer pocket.

"You really do make sure you get everything you want, Han. I've always admired that about you," he said.

"Not everything," Hannah said before she could stop herself. Joseph had the decency to look mildly ashamed. Hannah chose to avert her gaze from his face.

"So try to get as much of that as you can. They get back tonight, so we won't really need anything but breakfast food right away. I can always go again tomorrow."

"I'll get everything. See you in an hour or so." Joseph left as quickly as he could. Hannah, unpleasant feelings welling inside her, turned her attention to the movers.

"Those go in the first bedroom on the left, sir, thank you."


	3. Christine

Christine, George, and Zach pulled up to the house at one-forty-five. Christine had heard from George that it was an old, pretty, well-maintained house and the proof was in front of her eyes now. She was envious of the gardens, big and bold and beautiful where they sat below the large front porch. 

“Hmm,” Zach said as they got out of the car. “It looks…nice.”

“It is. I looked it over myself,” George said. “I wanna redo that basement, though. It’s got a great potential for an apartment, seriously, I could even put a kitchen down there-”

“Slow down, tiger, they haven’t even moved in yet!” Christine said with a laugh. “Come on, let’s go meet Hannah inside. We’ve got work to do.” She put a hand on Zach’s shoulder before starting up the path to the door. 

The inside was as nice as the outside, though somewhat bare. A few pieces of furniture had been moved into the living room- a loveseat, an armchair, and a TV. There were six or seven boxes of books stacked beside a radiator. There were two sets of doors leading out of the room, a single door into the kitchen and glass-paned double doors opening onto an empty dining room. Opposite the front door sat the staircase to the second floor. 

“You said two o’clock!” A man’s voice came from the kitchen, arguing angrily with someone. Hannah breezed out of the kitchen as the man continued: “Three forty-five is not two o’clock!”

“Hello, everyone. Sorry about that, there’s been a problem with the shipping people,” Hannah said, gesturing back to the kitchen. She looked mildly annoyed.

“They’re late?” Christine said. Hannah nodded.

“Not yet. Joseph is hoping to speed it up, but we’ll see how that goes,” she said. “In the meantime, all of Cerulean’s things are still in boxes. Perhaps we could tackle that until the rest of the furniture arrives.”

“Do you have everything you need for when they get home?” George asked.

“Of course. The beds from Sam’s apartment were brought over this morning and I’ve had Cerulean’s bed here for two days,” Hannah replied. “Everyone’s got a place to sleep and we’ve got food for breakfast. It’s just the furniture for the downstairs we’re waiting for, and some of my things.” 

“All right, but if you need anything-”

“I’ll let you know. Come on upstairs, Cerulean’s room is lovely and I want to show off,” Hannah said with a smile. She started up the stairs and Zach followed right after her. Christine turned to George. 

“Do you get the feeling there’s something else going on here?” she said softly. George nodded.

“Ten bucks says the furniture’s gonna be really late,” he said.

“I’ll see your ten bucks and say it’s whoever Joseph is that’s gonna be the problem,” Christine said. 

“You’re on.”

*

Christine helped Zach with Cerulean’s clothes for a half-hour or so. George and Hannah were trying to unpack Sam’s office. Trying because Hannah kept wavering on whether she should wait for Sam or just set it up. 

After thirty minutes, there were footfalls on the stairs. Both Christine and Zach peered out the door as the man from earlier called for Hannah. 

The man in the hall was without question related to Sam. He looked almost exactly like the man, though his features were rougher and his dark hair was starting to gray. His eyes were bright blue like Sam’s too, as was the frustrated way he huffed while he waited for Hannah to come out. 

“Sam’s dad?” Zach suggested softly. 

“Maybe,” Christine replied in the same volume. Hannah appeared in the hallway and Christine turned back to the little dresses she was unpacking.

“Well?” 

“The furniture will be here at three. They finally produced a truck heading this way,” the man said. “Seriously, they promised me two yesterday and then they tell me three forty-five. What sort of moron do they think I am? Do I sound like the kind of guy who can’t tell time?”

“Only when you’re drunk, Joseph. It’s two-thirty now, so we’ve got a half an hour before it arrives,” Hannah said, glancing at her watch.

“Yeah. So what can I do until then?” Joseph said.

“Well, Sam’s room is done. Cerulean’s only has the clothes to put away, which Christine and Zach are doing.” Zach tapped Christine on the shoulder. She looked up to see Joseph walking into the room. He had what Hannah had coined the ‘signature Seaborn smile’ on his face as he approached. Christine and Zach stood up.

“Hey, I’m Joseph Seaborn, Sam’s dad.” Joseph held his hand out to Christine, who shook it.

“Christine Dosil. I’m- well, I was Cerulean’s foster mom.”

“And she’s gonna be my mom,” Zach said. Joseph turned to him.

“You must be Zach. Good to meet ya, kid.” He held his hand out to Zach, who eyed him suspiciously.

“How come Sam never talks about you?” Zach asked. Joseph’s smile flickered.

“Zach,” Christine warned. 

“No, it’s uh…well, Sam and I have our problems,” Joseph said uncomfortably. “We’re working on it.” The look on Hannah’s face told Christine that was at least an exaggeration if not a downright lie. 

“What kind of problems?”

“Zach, that’s enough,” Christine said. Zach shrugged and went back to the boxes of clothes. Christine sighed and turned back to Joseph. “Sorry, he’s gotten very big on saying whatever’s in his head.”

“Yeah, teenage boys do that,” Joseph said, recovering. “I’ll just go see what Hannah needs me to do.” He left them as quickly as he could without seeming rude. Christine looked at Zach, who was putting some overalls in the drawer.

“You know, antagonizing your sister’s grandfather is not a very good plan,” she said. 

“Sam talks about everyone,” Zach replied. “Literally, everyone he runs into sometimes. So why doesn’t he talk about his dad?”

“Because he doesn’t. I know you’re worried about Cerulean, but Sam’s not gonna let this affect her. He wouldn’t have let his dad come if it would be a problem,” Christine said. That is, of course, if Sam knew he was coming…

*

The furniture finally arrived at three. Joseph had some choice words about that that make Christine smother a laugh. She, George and Joseph brought in the two tables as Hannah and Zach grabbed chairs and ferried them into the kitchen and dining room. The two guys who drove the truck helped carry in the couch, which left them with a few dozen boxes to carry in.

“Okay, those four go in the kitchen. These go in the living room and those six are for the dining room,” Joseph said, pointing to different piles. “These are all for your room, Han, and then I don’t know where you want the albums.”

“The albums can go in the living room for now. Zach, if you could help me bring up my things, I would really appreciate that,” Hannah said. Zach nodded and picked up one of the boxes marked Hannah. 

“I’ll start moving in the kitchen stuff,” Christine said. 

“I got the living room,” George said.

“Then I guess I’ll get the dining room and help you with the albums,” Joseph said. “Hannah, if you pick up anything too heavy and throw out your back-”

“I highly doubt my clothes are going to do that to me, but that’s why I have Zach, isn’t it?” Hannah replied. Zach gave Joseph a pointed look before he walked into the house with the box. Hannah followed with a box of her own. George looked at Christine, confused.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked.

“I don’t think your son likes me very much,” Joseph said blithely. He hefted a big box marked dining room into his arms and started into the house. George raised an eyebrow.

“Did I miss something?” 

“Only Zach’s rampant paranoia and possible problems between Sam and Joseph, so you owe me ten bucks,” Christine said. 

“Hang on, the furniture was pretty late. I was right too,” George said. 

“Okay, neither of us gets ten bucks then,” Christine said. “Come on, let’s get moving…”


	4. Sam

Sam pulled up in front of the house. Lights were on, which was a good sign. Sam knew this wasn’t a house that’d been sitting empty for months, but he remembered the horrors of moving into his first apartment all too well. He turned back to Cerulean in the backseat. She was awake again, holding Fred close.

“Is this our house, Daddy?”

“Yep. Nana got it all ready for us. You ready to go check it out?” Sam asked. Cerulean nodded. They got out of the car and Cerulean held her arms out to Sam in a silent request. He scooped her up into his arms. Dr. Bartlet had told him Cerulean was on the verge of being too old for that, but it could wait until the recovery period was over. For now, Sam liked carrying Cerulean. It was comfortable and it seemed to him that she was perfectly safe and happy there. 

The front door opened as they approached, Hannah beaming tiredly at them. 

“You’re back! How was the flight?”

“Surprisingly peaceful,” Sam said as they walked in. He saw plenty of furniture he recognized in the living room, from his apartment and from the Seaborn house in California. Boxes were stacked by the window but nearly everything was in place. Sam was definitely impressed.

“Wow.”

“I did tell you, I’m just that good,” Hannah said. “Now let’s get this one to bed, shall we? We have more unpacking to do in the morning and maybe some arts and crafts when we’re done?” She reached over and brushed some loose hair off Cerulean’s face. 

“Where do I sleep?” Cerulean asked. 

“Upstairs. And Daddy’s right across the hall.” Hannah led them upstairs. The first door on the right was Cerulean’s; Sam could see a bedspread with flowers through the half-open door. Hannah pushed the door open for them and Sam carried Cerulean to the bed. She looked around sleepily as he put her down.

“’S nice,” Cerulean said. “I like it.”

“Good thing. It’s all yours,” Sam said. “Good night, Cerulean.” 

“Night, Daddy.” Cerulean rolled onto her side, face meeting Fred’s nose. Sam walked back out to Hannah and they went to the stairs.

“Mom, you did an excellent job,” Sam said quietly as they went back down. “Thank you so much.”

“I told you I could do it,” Hannah replied. “Though I did have some help.”

“From the Dosils?”

“And a few others. Kathy gave me the spare keys to your place,” Hannah said, stepping back into the living room.

“Didn’t I- I forgot to give you my keys, didn’t I?” Sam said. “Damn. Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine. I worked around it,” Hannah said. “Do you have many bags to bring in?”

“Only two. I’ve got it, Mom, you can go sleep. You’ve earned it.” Sam kissed Hannah on the cheek before going out to the car. 

*

Sam had to go to work the next morning before Cerulean or Hannah woke up, but he left a note on the kitchen counter. He was very happy that Cerulean actually slept in that late. Okay, five a.m. is not generally considered late, but it was six hours and Sam considered that a victory. Most of the day was pretty good, actually, with the occasional annoyance. 

That ended when he got back to the house that night and his father was walking out the front door. 

Both men stopped in their tracks when they saw each other. It had been months since they were in the same time zone. Sam’s fists clenched and Joseph’s smile flickered.

“Hey, Sam. Long time no see,” Joseph said. His hands shoved themselves into the pockets of his slacks. No jeans, jeans were beneath Joseph Seaborn, as were honesty and vows.

“What are you doing here?” Sam replied.

“Your mom needed help moving the furniture cross-country,” Joseph said. “Thought I’d lend a hand.”

“Yeah?” Sam said. “You weren’t too busy in Santa Monica to come?” Joseph made a face.

“Now, that’s not fair-”

“You’re going to lecture me about fair when you spent 28 years-”

“Sam!” Hannah’s voice cut in and Sam looked to the front door, where his mother stood with her arms crossed and brow furrowed.

“That is enough,” she said. “Cerulean’s waiting for you. Inside with you.”

“Mom-”

“Now, Samuel.” Sam hadn’t been called by his whole first name in years. He clenched his fists but walked up to the front door. He heard Hannah say good night to Joseph before coming inside. When they were both inside, Sam and Hannah whirled to face each other.

“I can’t believe you!” they said in unison. 

“How could you have him come here?” Sam said.

“You can’t behave that way towards your father!” Hannah pointed at his chest. Sam couldn’t even remember the last time someone had pointed at him in an argument.

“You can’t expose Cerulean to him without my permission!”

“Why? What do you think is going to happen?” Hannah demanded. “Joseph isn’t dangerous! He would never hurt anyone, let alone his granddaughter!”

“That’s not the point!” Sam said.

“Then please enlighten me, Sam! What is so wrong with your father spending time with Cerulean?” Hannah said, flinging her hands out. 

“I- I don’t feel comfortable having him around her! You should understand!” Sam said. Hannah’s eyes grew cold and her arms dropped to her sides.

“Because he cheated on me,” she said, voice much lower. Sam was bewildered by the sudden change in temperature.

“Yes,” he answered.

“That has nothing to do with you, Sam, or your relationship with either of us. That was an issue between your father and me, and it’s over,” Hannah said.

“You’re my parents, how does this not have anything to do with me?” Sam said. 

“Because a marriage has two people in it, not three. The two of us started the marriage, and the two of us broke it.”

“Mom, he’s the one who cheated-”

“People don’t cheat out of the blue! They cheat because there’s something they’re not getting in their relationship!” Hannah snapped. Sam blinked in shock and Hannah sighed. “Your father needed more attention than I could give him, so he went and found someone who would give him that. I knew that was why, so I never stopped him.”

“You knew? You knew he was cheating on you?” Sam repeated.

“Of course I knew. I’m not an idiot, I was just busy. Always busy.”

“But you were so upset when everyone found out-”

“Because it was embarrassing! Suddenly everyone knew we couldn’t make it work, that we hadn’t been making it work for nearly thirty years. It was humiliating, not crushing,” Hannah said. “And I’m sorry if it upset you, but he’s not the only one to blame here. It takes two, Sam.” Sam paused, running his tongue along his teeth as he considered that. It did make sense, as loathe as he was to admit it.

“Not getting enough attention isn’t a good reason to cheat,” he said. Hannah closed her eyes.

“If you could name a good reason to cheat, I’d be floored,” she said. “But I could have helped the situation a little.”

“Mom, if he was going to cheat, he was going to cheat. I don’t think you could have stopped that,” Sam said. “But…if you don’t want me to be mad at him, I can try to not be mad at him.” Hannah opened her eyes.

“That would be nice.” She smiled. 

“Then I’ll make an effort. No promises,” Sam warned. Hannah rolled her eyes but nodded.

“I appreciate that.” There was a creak and Sam turned to see the kitchen door open slightly. Cerulean peered around the door.

“Is the yelling over?” she asked, biting her lip. Sam felt like he’d been punched in the face. Hannah’s jaw dropped.

“Yes, the yelling’s over,” Sam said. “We were just… we were arguing.”

“Are you in trouble?” Cerulean said. 

“He was, but we talked it out and it’s over now,” Hannah said. “That’s what we do: we talk out our problems.”

“We shouldn’t have yelled. We’re sorry if we upset you,” Sam added. Cerulean eyed them both before opening the door all the way and coming into the living room. 

“Will you read me a story?” she said, looking up at Sam.

“Of course. It’s actually time for you to go to bed, so-” He reached down and picked Cerulean up. She latched on tight. “Let’s go put you there, all right?”

“All right. Night, Nana.”

“Good night, Cerulean. I’ll see you in the morning.”


	5. Cerulean

Cerulean didn’t like yelling. Yelling was something Other Daddy did, Bad Daddy. Sometimes Uncle Toby or Uncle Josh would yell, but it was only somebody’s name to get them to come over, and Uncle Toby never did it when he knew Cerulean was around. Daddy never yelled. Nana never yelled. So when they came back in and got really loud, Cerulean ran into the kitchen until the yelling stopped for a while. She was a little scared- what was that word Uncle Toby used? Takenback? She was takenback that Daddy and Nana were yelling. They didn’t do that normally. But they said sorry and everything seemed okay now.

Daddy carried her upstairs to her new room, which had all her old things and a bunch of new things too. Fred was waiting for her on the bed. Cerulean was a big girl now, she didn’t need to carry Fred everywhere. 

“Okay, get your pajamas on and pick out a book.” Daddy put her down on the floor. “I’m going to put some things together in my office, which is…the door across from Nana’s room.”

“Have you gotten to be in there yet?” Cerulean asked.

“No, actually. This is going to be the first time,” Daddy said. “But you come get me when you’re ready.”

“Okay.” Daddy left to go to his office. Cerulean pulled out her favorite nightgown, which was gold and silky and had Princess Belle on it. Then, after she put it on, Cerulean went to her bookshelf. 

“Hmm…” She had three Harry Potter Books. Cerulean knew the first one so good- so well, Uncle Toby said it’s so well- that she could probably tell it from memory. But she didn’t know the second one too much and she hadn’t read the third one once. Cerulean took that one and went to find Daddy’s office at home. 

It was a small room with a desk and a bookshelf and some roll-y chairs like at the office-office. It had a big lamp that was taller than Cerulean in the corner and a window across from the door. Daddy was staring at the desk like he wasn’t sure what it was.

“Daddy, I’m ready,” Cerulean said. Daddy looked at her and smiled.

“Great. Let’s go.” He walked with her back to her room. They sat on her bed and Daddy took the book.

“Hmm, I haven’t read this one yet,” he said. 

“Me neither. New house, new book,” Cerulean said. Daddy laughed. 

“I like the way you think.” He opened the book, trying to find the first page. 

“Daddy,” Cerulean said. 

“Yeah, Cerulean?”

“Are you mad at your daddy?” she asked. Daddy paused.

“I was,” he said. “Now I’m not sure.”

“Why are you mad at him?”

“Well, it’s a little complicated,” Daddy said, using the voice he did when he didn’t want to talk about something. “Basically, he did something…bad. It hurt Nana, emotionally. And when I found out, it hurt me too. It made me question a lot of things.”

“Oh,” Cerulean said. “So…now what?”

“I am going to try to play nice,” Daddy said. “Because Nana asked me to.”

“But he was bad,” Cerulean said. “I don’t understand.” Daddy shrugged.

“Sometimes we have to forgive bad things.”

“No, you said I didn’t have to forgive Jeremy for the bad things he did,” Cerulean said. 

“That was a different kind of bad thing,” Daddy said. 

“But how-”

“Cerulean, I think we need to have this conversation another time, when we’re less tired,” Daddy said. “It’ll go better when we’re both more awake, okay?”

“Okay.” Cerulean still didn’t understand why Nana or Daddy would forgive this guy. When someone hurt you and wasn’t sorry, you didn’t have to forgive them. That’s what Daddy and Aunt C.J. said. Maybe Daddy’s daddy had said sorry.

Daddy opened the book wide and held it out in front of Cerulean. She could recognize some of the words already- maybe she’d be able to read it by herself by her next birthday.

“‘Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways…’”

*

When Cerulean woke up the next morning, the sun was just waking up too. She could hear people moving downstairs, so she went to investigate. Cerulean brought Fred with her- she might be big now, but you’re not supposed to investigate noises by yourself. 

When Cerulean got downstairs, she found Daddy was making coffee. She couldn’t see it from all the way across the kitchen, which was the biggest kitchen EVER, but she could smell it. The White House always smelled like coffee. It smelled pretty good, but Uncle Josh let her taste some once and it was gross.

“Hi, Daddy.” He looked up and smiled.

“Hey, what are you doing up?”

“Nothin, yet.” Cerulean walked over. “What are you doing?” 

“Getting ready to go to work. I have a few more minutes, you hungry?” Daddy asked. Cerulean nodded. She climbed up onto one of the stools next to the thing Nana called the butcher’s block, Fred swinging from her hand. “What can I get you?”

“I don’t know. What are the choices?” Cerulean said. Daddy looked lost.

“Um…I don’t know. I can make toast?”

“Toast is good.” 

“Oh, thank God,” Daddy said, smiling. Cerulean giggles. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Yeah. You’re silly,” she said. Daddy took some bread out of the bread bag and put it in the toaster.

“At times, yes. Especially around small blue people,” he said. 

“Do you know a lot of small blue people?” Cerulean asked.

“What?”

“Everybody says small blue people. How many small blue people are there? Coz I think I’m the only one,” Cerulean said. 

“Well, there are the Smurfs. But we don’t know them personally,” Daddy said. There was a knock on the front door. Daddy frowned. “Stay here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

“Okay.” Daddy walked across the kitchen into the living room. Cerulean watched the dial on the toaster spin ve-ee-ry slowly as it ticked and ticked. She heard Daddy open the door.

“Dad,” he said.

“Sam.” Cerulean knew that voice. It was the man from yesterday, the one Nana introduced as Pop. Cerulean wasn’t sure she was supposed to call him that yet. Daddy said that he was forgiving him, but Cerulean still didn’t understand why.

“What did Mom tell you?” Daddy said. 

“She said you were willing to talk,” Maybe-Pop said. “Look, Sam, I know you’re hurting. I wanna make things better. I…I messed up. I’ll do what I have to do to make it up to you, I just wanna be in your life again.”

“I appreciate that,” Daddy said. “I just…might need to some time to fully forgive you.”

“Yeah. That’s fine,” Maybe-Pop said. “Um…Cerulean’s a great kid. Smart as hell.”

“Yes, she is. Really funny too,” Daddy said. The toaster let out a loud ding and Cerulean squeaked, having forgotten it was going. “I have to go finish her breakfast.”

“Right. Is it all right if I-”

“Yeah, come on.” Daddy and Maybe-Pop came back into the kitchen. Cerulean turned to look at them and Maybe-Pop smiled at her. 

“Hey, Trouble. How you doing this morning?”

“Good.” Daddy went to the toaster and pulled the toast out. He tossed it onto a plate, shaking his fingers because it was hot. 

“So what are your plans for the day?” Maybe-Pop asked. 

“Nana wants to look at playgrounds n stuff,” Cerulean said. “Then Daddy’s gonna take me to work with him, right, Daddy?”

“If I get everything done in time, yes.” Daddy put the plate in front of Cerulean. “There you are, Cerulean.”

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“My pleasure. But I’ve got to head out, so have fun with Nana and I’ll be around to pick you up around three.” Daddy came around the butchers block again and kissed Cerulean on the head.

“Bye, Daddy,” she said. He started walking away.

“Bye, Sam,” Maybe-Pop said. Daddy stopped on his way to his briefcase on the table. He turned to Maybe-Pop.

“Bye. I’ll see you both later.” Then Daddy picked up the briefcase and kept going. Cerulean and Maybe-Pop looked at each other.

“So,” Maybe-Pop said. “Your nana up?”

“I don’t know,” Cerulean said. “I’ve been down here.”

“Right. Right.” Maybe-Pop nodded.

“Daddy said you hurt her,” Cerulean said. Maybe-Pop blinked.

“What?”

“Daddy said you did something and you hurt Nana.”

“Oh. Yeah, I did.” Maybe-Pop sighed. “I did something stupid. I should have talked to her instead of…someone else. But I did…talk to someone else. And it was the wrong thing to do and I’m sorry.” 

“So…you hurt her feelings?” Cerulean said. She was pretty sure there was something she didn’t know, but this might be enough of the story for her to make a decision on this guy.

“Yes. Very badly. I’m trying to be better,” Maybe-Pop said.

“You didn’t hit her or nothing?” Cerulean asked. Maybe-Pop’s mouth fell open.

“What- no! Of course not!”

“You didn’t stick her head underwater or have somebody crash their car-”

“Cerulean, I have never done anything like that to Hannah or Sam.” His voice was VERY SERIOUS, like when Aunt C.J. told Daddy and Uncle Josh not to use peroxide in Daddy’s office. Cerulean nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“You can stay.” Cerulean picked up her toast and took a bite. Pop stared at her for a few minutes.

“Okay,” he said. “Thank you.”


End file.
